


Incidents of Infatuation

by erasmiasnow



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: 19th Century, Boyfriends, Childhood Friends, F/M, Gay, Jane Austen - Freeform, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Multi, Unknown feelings, jane austen inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23492908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erasmiasnow/pseuds/erasmiasnow
Summary: Robbe, who rather spends his day reading and imagining stories, has yet to discover his own which will undoubtedly be raddled with by a young boy who he was able to be acquainted with just after turning twelve. The both of them being inseparable, spending their mornings and afternoons together, got shadowed by the marriage plans Robbe's mother had in mind ever since the wealthy family, of which Sander was part of, decided to move to Antwerp. It is truly a journey for Robbe to find out why he cannot bring himself to be happy for his sister Britt, who was sought out to marry Sander. What will happen when incidents of infatuation take place?
Relationships: Robbe IJzermans/Noor Bauwens, Sander Driesen/Britt Ingelbrecht, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story as it was and is my absolute pleasure to write it. As this story is Jane Austen inspired I have included some direct quotes from her books, if you want to know which one's I am talking about feel free to let me know in the comments or dm me on Twitter via the @/rosandernarry questions and messages are very much appreciated as well as criticism.  
> A special thanks goes out to all my co-creators: @/Marc_withaMouth @/skamdelrey @/cabeswtrs @/Madison09685786 who erased mistakes, helped me with the plot and were very helpful overall - I can't thank you all enough! (You can find all of them on Twitter)  
> A huge 'I love you' and 'thank you' goes out to my very dear friends who know exactly who they are - I love you! Thank you for your endless support.

May 1862 – 12  
By the time Robbe had reached the very tender age of twelve, he had already become acquainted with the purest feeling of joy one could ever take hold of. He had never once thought that he would find something – or someone – that could give him a sense of joy like that of a well-written book.  
As a twelve year-old, who is yet to discover the world and has a mind full of silly thoughts, Robbe never quite questioned his beliefs. He spent rainy days reading indoors, but if on a rare occasion the sun presented itself, he’d spend the day lounging in the backyard of his family home, writing down ideas or reading those of people much wiser than he would ever be.  
So when his older sister, Britt, heatedly ran into the living room where he was spending the day reading about adventures he desired to encounter, he dropped his book immediately as he was not used to seeing his sister in such a frenzy: “Father, Mother, Zoë – the unimaginable happened.” And within seconds of her uncontrolled outburst, their mother walked through the door, scolding her. Her little flare-up was apparently caused by the prodigious amount of excitement a girl’s heart was able to take on. “Now calm down and present your story well-mannered.” And it was after their mother’s demands, that Mr. IJzermans entered the room but not without greeting his children with the fondest smile a man his age could give his offspring, who were now sitting on the edge of their seats, their posture driven by curiosity.  
“An unbelievably wealthy family just moved into the house next to Mr. Bloomfield. The news spread all over town.”  
As soon as the words had left Britt’s lips, her mother took it upon herself to match the excitement that her oldest daughter had shown mere seconds ago, and thus undoubtedly breaking her own rule and riling up her youngest daughter, Zoë. “Unbelievably wealthy? Do they have children? My dear Mr. IJzermans” said his lady to him: “We must greet them at once.” And within seconds all eyes were on Mr. IJzermans, who let the scene unfold before him. Unknown to him, Robbe hated that he was the one to make decisions and to please his son, he did what only a father in possession of true love would do: “My love, what do you think? Shall we drop by later on? Since it is your proposition after all.”  
He was, without a doubt, talking to his wife, whom he called “my love” so often that when Robbe was 5 he once asked his mother if her name was “my love” which earned him a few chuckles but never quite an answer and as the years flew by he learned to understand what it meant and he loved that he did so by himself.  
Laughter, joined by faint clapping sounds that could only come from his mother’s delicate hands, let everybody know that they would visit the foreign family that had decided to settle down in Antwerp, which is known for its calm and gentle manner and it is only a carriage ride of fifteen minutes away. Robbe greeted his father’s concession with a thankful glance, silently appreciating his considerations. 

It was not so much the carriage ride or the flowers that had just started to bloom or the families taking a walk that excited Robbe, but the potential of meeting a family so wealthy, that he couldn’t help himself but imagining the amount of books that must be in their possession which utterly thrilled him. Unsurprisingly, the thought of making a friend had not crossed his mind once, thus when they stood in front of the very well put together family to introduce themselves, Robbe was caught by surprise by a boy his age, beaming with such happiness that, in an instant, Robbe had to smile as well. He decided that he had never seen a bigger smile, he’d never even read about one that radiated such happiness.  
With curiosity comes boldness and he therefore, whilst his parents were indulged in sharing gossip, took a step forward, stretching out his arm to formally greet the boy perched before him with such pride that Robbe’s curiosity grew by the second. “I’m Robbe” was all he managed to say though. He feared that he would not be quite as interesting as the blonde boy he now boldly – for Robbe’s standards at least, who tends to keep to himself – introduced himself to.  
“Hello Robbe, my name is Sander. How are you today, if I may ask?” Merged with the utter happiness Sander exuded, were his very well-controlled manners and it was in that moment that Robbe decided that he wanted to befriend Sander. This was not only because he was in desperate need of a friend, it was also due to the fact that the rare combination that unraveled itself before him perfectly described his idea of good company.  
“I’m very well thank you.” Robbe was not able to easily read a person’s behavior, however he was mimicking Sander’s well-mannered appearance just as he’d been doing ever since he decided that books were the best company a boy his age could have. That was until now of course.  
“I’m very glad to hear that. I-”“  
“Come now Robbe, we must get going. We mustn't be a bother. Feel free to drop by for tea after you have settled in.”  
Sanders unfinished sentence, of which his mother was the cause of, lingered in Robbes mind and he wondered about it all day:

Dear diary,  
today I met a boy with blonde hair and a smile unlike any other. The incomplete sentence he left me with has consumed my mind and I refuse to think about anything else. It seemed as if he wanted to question me, – but with what? It is a shame that Mother disrupted our conversation, so short yet so profound that the impression of a true friend dawned on me immediately; – his expressions tell me so. If the opportunity of another meeting were to present itself–, and I am sure Mother would not be averse to it–, I would do my best to win him over, and keep him as a friend.  
Robbe, 1862

2 years later 

August, 1864 - 14  
“Stop at once! I am nearly out of breath!”  
“You just have to run faster Robbe, being short of breath is not considered to be a well thought-through excuse.”  
Robbe knew he should not have stolen the older boy’s favorite drawing, he knew it was not his best idea when he, in the spur of a carefree outburst, took it upon himself to distract the older boy, whose thoughts always wandered away the moment his pen hit whatever surface it was that he decided to grace with a drawing. It really was his own fault, but getting chased through rooms that were much bigger than the ones he was used to at home and that have, in the matter of two years, become so utterly familiar he might as well call them ‘home’, has filled him with adrenaline. Yet merged with it, was exhaustion and thus he let himself fall to the ground to announce his defeat. Sander granted him not even a second of calmness, before he made sure his dearest possession was back in safe hands. His actions, undoubtedly motivated by protection, let the blonde boy fall on top of Robbe, pinning him down to make sure Robbe’s ability to move was completely restricted and in a second the drawing was back in the hands of its keeper. It would have been a lie to say Robbe did not feel a slight surge of enjoyment that came with the smile that spread on his friends’ face.  
“I would never have befriended you if it meant getting chased because of a simple joke.”  
“If I recall correctly it was you who wanted to be my friend so desperately that you even told you diary about it” and in an attempt to jokingly imitate Robbe, he continued to say: ‘Dear diary, why can’t Sander be my friend already? I have tried everything but he seems so distant all the time and it is not my wish to bother hi-‘“  
And in order to interrupt his poor imitation of Robbe, that was accompanied by gestures that could not have been more dramatic, he tried to reason with him, standing before him, still out of breath but never too exhausted to share his thoughts: “I can’t believe you remembered that, it’s been two years. Zoë should’ve known better than to go through my personal belongings.”  
“But if it weren’t for her we wouldn’t be chasing each other till we’re out of breath now would we?” Sander grinned. This smile, the same powerful smile that Sander had greeted Robbe with two years ago was a sign of a true friend. I am so happy I found you, Robbe thought, and little did he know that this thought was one that he could never share with anyone.

November 1864 – 15  
Sundays spent at home are never quite what one would imagine they would be, most definitely not when they were spent with Sander joining his family’s weekly afternoon tea. Robbe never quite took a liking to afternoon tea though, and given the chance, he would avoid it at all costs.  
“You don’t need scores of suitors. You need only one… if he’s the right one.” It was not his mother’s strong suit to be able to hide her wishes and hopes. Her suggestive glances back and forth between Britt and Sander were hinting at a possible marriage that she had planned a very long time ago. Britt, – just like her mother – never shied away from grasping an opportunity, especially one that would not only be pleasant for her, but also for her family as they would most definitely – like every respectable family of their standards would – benefit from a conflation of such kind. They smiled brightly, not at all trying to hide her happiness about such wishes.  
“I am sure one day we will all have the right person to spend one’s life with – of course with affection, or else marriage would be no more than an empty shell of complete and utter nothingness.” It felt as if it was Robbe’s duty to speak up and he knew that what he dared to speak was not taken lightly. Everyone stilled and all eyes rested on him. To break the tension that was created in mere seconds by words spoken so vastly yet so passionately and hence not permitted to be heard during an afternoon that was meant for light conversation, Robbe was saved by his mother: “Spoken with the intentions of a writer, isn’t that right, love?”  
“Of course my dear, an outburst of such kind can only be motivated by artistry that longs to be written down. Robbe will become a writer, I am sure of it!” Even though his father knew that Mrs. IJzermans always praised Robbe’s talent but never quite supported it the way he did, he spoke with such kindness that was able to – in the matter of very few moments – turn a disagreeable moment into one of profound calmness which allowed Robbe to be appreciative.  
“I am – if you don’t mind me saying– sure of it as well.” It was not in Sanders' nature to freely give away compliments the way he did now and to Robbe, who was finally able to show a smile, his friend's compliment filled him with joy, the same sort he felt when he first befriended him. 

December 1864 – 15  
Dear Robbe,  
you must excuse my absence as it was not my intention to miss our yearly gathering. I know what the importance of Christmas means to you and your family and I cannot express how ardently sorry I am. I wish you, and your family of course, a merry Christmas and I hope to recover soon. The doctor said we should not be worried about it and I therefore hope you can stay calm but knowing you better than most, the probability of you being filled with worry is of an unimaginable extent. I will make sure to come by in the near future. However, it is not my wish to pass on a cold that could potentially fill you with such an extreme amount of boredom that you find yourself forced to write about it in a letter – as I do now.  
Tell your sister Britt, that I will make it up to her as soon as I can and that I cannot wait to see her again. Your mother’s gift of match-making truly is special.  
Nevertheless, I hope and wish to see you soon.  
Greetings,  
Sander – 24th of December 1864

“Who’s it from, Robbe? Tell me at once!” Britt demanded, almost shoving him down to the carpeted floor.  
“Calm yourself or I shall never reveal this secret.” His words surely worked, for his sister stopped her excitement immediately.  
“It’s from Sander. He has sadly fallen ill but will visit us in the near future.”  
“When he’s better, you mean?” asked Britt.  
“Of course.”  
“So….” Britt’s silence was to be interpreted by Robbe, who very much noticed that his older sister longed for as much as a special “Hello” directed at her in his letter.  
“Is there nothing that he wanted to say to me?” Oh how he wanted to say “no”, to blatantly lie to her, to keep this letter all to himself - but he could not, he was raised to be an honest, admirable young man and it took a lot for him to fight the urge to lie to his sister. Everything in him wanted to keep Britt from knowing and even he did not know why this letter had raised thoughts of such unpleasantness. Eventually, he settled for the truth.  
“He’ll make his loss of appearance up to you very soon.” Not at all being able to contain herself now, she grabbed the letter, twirling and dancing with it, as if it weren’t merely paper but Sander himself standing before her.  
“Mother have you heard? He wants to see me again!”  
“It is of course a mother’s strength to seek out those most suitable for one’s own children and I must say that I simply saw the two of you getting together the very day they moved to Bloomfield.” Called on by Britt’s happiness and the warm feeling of the dimly lit living room, was his mother, who now stood amidst her children, keeping young Zoë close by, who had recently turned 11.  
“It had – of course – nothing to do with their wealth that is much bigger than ours, right my dear?” Mr. IJzermans added while stepping into the room, letting himself fall down into the chair before the fireplace, not refraining from such sarcastic remarks that were one of his many fortes.  
“Oh shush, will you? Do not get on my nerves on Christmas day!”  
“My dear, I will postpone my bickering until after Christmas then, if that is your wish.”  
His mother, who has now been married to his father for 23 years, has never fully understood the person she slept next to each night.  
“Father, what do you think about a possible marriage between Britt and Sander? Would you allow it?” Robbe was never usually one to question things that didn’t involve him which understandably caught his father off guard.  
“I only want what’s best for my children and if both Britt and Sander feel that way about each other, then I don’t see why anyone should get in the way of it.” It was not just sarcasm that has been a strength of his father, but also the ability to not show when he was startled which was doing now to assure Robbe that he had not seen his intrusion that was driven by emotional inquisitiveness.  
“See Robbe? You needn’t worry about both your sister and friend. Your father is more than happy to allow a union so magnificent.” His mother, on the other hand, could not quite see through him the way his father did but it wasn’t like her to do so and Robbe himself had a hard time to understand why he would ask such a thing. His father knew though, had the inkling of an idea with which he went to bed with, never once telling his son his assumptions, in fear it would startle him as much as it already raddled with his mind. 

Dear diary,  
My behavior today was quite odd and I simply cannot understand why I would ask a question of such sort. I am glad Britt left the room before I prompted myself with the ability to ask such silly things. I am unbelievably ashamed of myself and am really looking forward to see Sander soon and I am sure Britt is too, he promised to visit her after all. It will be very much welcomed by my mother and will spare my thoughts, that have been spiraling ever since I proposed an inquiry so unnecessary, a break that is very much needed.  
Other than that not much has happened. In fact I hope not much will happen, or else I see myself forced to spend the rest of the holiday in my room, where I am free to think.  
Robbe, December 1864 

January 1865 - 15  
“Be quiet or we will wake them!” Sander whispered.  
“Sander, what are you doing, it is the middle of the night how on earth were you able to get here?” Robbe leaned forward, holding onto the window sill whilst looking down at Sander who was not a dream even though his drowsy mind had mistaken him for one at first glance.  
“It doesn’t matter, now come down.”  
“It most certainly does, you know how my mother gets and if she finds out that you have been here at an ungodly hour like this you shall be lucky if I am still alive by tomorrow morning.”  
“Robbe do not exaggerate!”  
“Why are you here then?”  
“Well is it not obvious? For you! Now come down and hurry.”  
Not entirely sure why his heart was suddenly racing, he decided that it must’ve been the sudden awakening he had to endure but he knew better than to mess with his friend and he happily obliged his pleas.  
But when he stood before him, he could not help his scolding manner: “Sander, are you out of your mind? You were sick a few weeks ago, you should not risk it happening again.”  
“You sound like your mother Robbe, and here I thought that was what you tried to avoid so desperately.”  
“Don’t you dare mess with me! There isn’t a thing I would not do for those who are really my friends and I must admit that you are considered a part of that.”  
The young man did not respond but took Robbe’s hand, leading him away.  
“Where are we going?” Robbe whispered in fear of his parents noticing their little escapade as he was desperately trying not to get caught, especially not if it meant giving up time with Sander which he had not spared him with in the past few weeks as his mind was occupied with his sister, causing him to almost forget Sander. And even though he knew he could never forget him he could not help himself but feel like he did.  
“It will sound ridiculous but you are the only person I can tell.” Robbe's eyes sparkled, for it's always pleasant to be believed in; and a friend's praise is always sweeter than a dozen compliments thrown at him by his mother, who only did so to please herself.  
“We’re almost there.” Sander added.  
“I surely hope we are, I am exhausted.” Robbe teased, now more awake than before.  
Suddenly standing amidst a field of flowers that were tinted blue by the moon that was shining upon them, they came to a halt. For a moment Robbe seemed unable to move from surprise, but quickly recovered himself.  
“What do you think?” Sander stretched out his arms almost as if presenting the field that had take on mysterious shapes as the still of the night rested upon it.  
“What do you mean?” Robbe asked, but what was about to come dawned on him.  
“This is where I’ll propose.”  
Robbes heart sank.  
He was unable to move, but not because of the beauty of the magnificent field, but because his friend, whom he cared for so dearly, admitted to wanting to marry his sister. It was part of being a good brother and an even better friend to be content with a union that was wished by so many, but he could not stop himself from feeling ill at the very thought of it.  
“I- I don’t know what to say.” He was not trying to hurt his friend, that was never quite his intention, but he needed to make time because he was unable to think, his feelings got in the way of it especially since it was not his forte to recognize what it was that he was feeling, so he convinced himself that he was simply so happy that it caught him in a state of shock, though his actions did not go along with an explanation of such sort:  
“Do you love her, Sander?” His friend’s excitement faltered and he was unable to look Robbe in the eyes, which spoke for itself.  
“Sander, you cannot possibly marry without affection!”  
“You’re the one to talk! You, out of everyone, know very well that my family urges me to get married ever since my Uncle decided to only grace me with his property if I am in possession of a good and well-mannered wife.”  
“Do not tell me you would give up the chance of choosing who you will spend the rest of your life with because of a property? That is so full of ridicule you surely must realise that, otherwise you would not defend it so desperately.”  
“It is far more than that, Robbe. Father would not let me live to see the day if I were to give up the house. The pressure caused by such expectations is unbearable and I see myself forced to marry her. She is a sensible, young woman, you should be happy for her.”  
“Don’t you dare accuse me of feeling unhappiness for my sister when her feelings have been very much out in the open and when I want nothing more than for her to find someone who will appreciate - but most of all - love her.”  
“I will learn to do so, I’m sure of it.”  
They stood in front of each other, the flowers that ever so gently swayed in the wind lost their beauty by the second, undoubtedly caused by the disagreeable moment, and Robbe knew that he needed to leave at once or he would not be able to hold himself together. To be weak in one’s own company was one thing, but to be most vulnerable in front of a friend when a fight of such extent had taken place seconds ago was another, and Robbe made sure to avoid it – so he turned and walked away.  
“Robbe! Robbe you cannot possibly leave, why are you behaving like that? This is so unlike you.”  
That, however, was able to turn Robbe around, as he shall never be told how he was ought to behave:  
“It is unlike me to behave in such a way? Is it? When it was you who spent the last months chasing after my sister when you have not felt any sort of love for her back then and surely do not now. I have tolerated the both of you, I did everything in my power to stay away, to give you privacy and it took everything in me not to run over and take back my friend, one I had for so many years, who had forgotten about me as soon as the sole opportunity of a marriage presented itself. And I thought it was because you were in love with her, besotted by her appearance, unable to spend a second without her, that your heart was so full of uncontrolled emotions, solely set off by standing next to her. But all of that was just because of your uncle and some prestigious property you are ought to inherit? Do not tell me it is unlike me to behave in such a way when it is you whose behaviour is of unimaginable pride.”  
When his friend, ashamed, let his head fall still touched by the words spoken with truth, Robbe knew that it was time to leave, for one needn’t to bother with such emotional outrage just before the sun shone. And he longed for nothing more than his home with its room in which he could feel safe in the company of only himself and his feelings.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Robbe stumbles upon a realisation that has accompanied him for much longer than he was able to comprehend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once again want to thank my two lovely co-creators for helping me with corrections and for being so so kind when I ask for their help. You can find them on Twitter via @/Marc_withaMouth and @/wtflorenzi , they are both incredibly kind and just so so lovely. I especially want to point out my dear friend Marc, who just turned 23 so again: Happy Birthday.  
> If you have any questions regarding the story or the direct quotes I am using from Austen, feel free to let me know so in the comments or dm/tweet me via @/rosandernarry , I am happy to answer them.
> 
> Another special thanks goes out to - yet again - my very dear friends who know who they are: I love you endlessly.

Chapter 2

January 1865 – Sander – 17

Dear Robbe,  
I must say that –

Sander’s thoughts were only of kindness, though he was not able to bring paper to pen as the mere thought of his friend still caused an uproar. Apologizing for one’s own mistakes is never to be considered undemanding, but apologizing when one does not know what for, made the task unbelievably difficult and Sander felt wretched at the very thought of it.  
He was suddenly roused by the sound of the door-bell, and his spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of it being Robbe himself, who might now come to inquire particularly after him. However, this idea was soon banished, and his spirits were very differently affected, when he saw Jens, whom he was thankful to call his brother, walk into the room. Upon noticing the letter he intended to write, Jens soon made sure to let his younger brother know that he thought of his actions as utterly ridiculous: “I don’t think you should write letters minutes before we have to attend dinner, much less when they are directed at a friend to whom you could write to on any given day. Don’t you think you should write such letters to eligible women?”  
“Simply because you have a wife who I – dare I say – do not envy at all, it shall not be upon you to behave so tenacious.” His brother, who was much kinder once one got to know him, appreciated the joking manner, as it carried a slight wave of nostalgia that had always been welcomed by both.  
“Well, it is your business after all. I simply came to call you for dinner, as I mentioned earlier. Also, Aaron has news, I believe.”  
“Aaron? Surely it must be of importance then.”  
“One can only hope so.”

The dining hall, in which the Driesen’s had their usual gatherings, was to be considered one of the most spacious rooms the family owned and they surely treated it as such. This was not only given away by the chandelier hanging above the table, but also by the room’s expensive carpentry. Which felt soft upon entrance but now reminded Sander of a time in which Robbe would chase him through their home which was much to his mother’s disapproval, though she would never admit to it, very much enjoyed the liveliness that was brought along by such happenings. Their uplifting spirits never ceased to disappoint and surely evoked such feelings in even the sternest of souls. Even though such memories now left a sour taste, Sander did his very best to behave in a suitable way, as he did not want to disappoint his brother, who had been to Brussels and brought with him exciting news:  
“Aaron, how have you been, how was Brussels?”  
“The usual. Though I must say the food was exceptionally good, not entirely sure how today’s dinner could possibly beat the one I got served in Brussels.” But his doubts, that were carried by a playful tone, were soon to be demolished by their mother, whose entrance never was one to miss, as she carried herself ever so gracefully, just like a lady of her standards was ought to: “Aaron, dear, you very well know that your father and I do not pay cooks for you to insult them with such sarcastic remarks.” Her stern behavior was not to be taken seriously, though one who was not yet acquainted with her must learn so. Her ability to joke relied solely on her being serious as to create an uncomfortable tension that aroused the inevitable question of whether her expressions were meant to be taken lightly or precisely not. And yet, thinking of Robbe was Sander’s most significant difficulty, as his mother’s spirit evoked yet another memory, one in which his dear friend did not know how to respond to his mother, when she was merely joking. The imagery that created itself made it impossible for Sander to not think about him, but he tried his very best not to, even though he longed for it, he wanted nothing more than to call him his friend again.  
Around the now fully decorated table, carrying all sorts of heavenly smells, sat the family of five. Aaron’s bearing of news shadowed the table, making everyone long to know what it was, purely because it was not in Aaron’s nature to bring news with him that he claimed to be of importance, and as timing allowed such discussions, all eyes were on him:  
“I have mentioned it before in my letter and it seems – without a doubt – quite suspicious but the news I bring to you are of utmost happiness. I am sure you all remember Ms. Amber Snoeckx whose nature is not only worth remembering, but also worth to marry, as I have asked her father for his approval and his response surely filled me with utmost joy, but hers turned me into the happiest man and with an incredible amount of pride I can say that she is now my fiancée.”  
They were all astonished; and Sander, who knew they were all incredibly happy for him but were ever too well put together to show a faltering of well-mannered behavior, stood up to greet his older brother with nothing but a showcase of love and congratulations, as soon did all of them.  
The following minutes were spent with all of them calming down after such happy declarations leading up to a discussion that was most unpleasant to Sander, very much so due to his falling out with Robbe:  
“Well I must say that your mother and I want nothing more than to see you happy, though I must admit that a tremendous amount of relief would wash over us if we were to see you getting engaged, Sander.” Sander, for the sake of saying something that might turn his parents’ thoughts, now explained:  
“Father, I know that our dear uncle’s property is to be bestowed upon me and I would love for it to be mine, though I must admit that I do not see myself ready yet for marriage.”  
His father hesitated for a moment but then replied ever so sternly: “You know very well that we must increase our wealth for it to sustain you and your future families. Acting so selfishly – I will not allow it.” Jens tried to interfere, beknown to him that a discussion like such was to be treated with caution, rather than fueling it:  
“Sander, is young Ms. IJzermans, who has clearly put eyes on you, of a marriageable age?”  
Unbeknownst to him, her very mention made the situation worse, as the mere thought of Britt brought with it a sense of anger that Sander was unfamiliar with. He longed for nothing more than to get to its roots. With a restrained tone and slight caution Sander replied, so as not to seem disagreeable:

“She very much is, though she is not yet properly introduced to society and I see myself forced not to marry her as of now. As well as her being below us, which makes such happenings a lot more inconvenient.” To fall back on statements to with Sander does everything but agree to turned his unpleasantness into complete illness, as he was to be considered very critical of such hierarchical thoughts he only ever mentioned in front of his family to appear as the well-mannered son they believed to raise, even though everything in him was against such behavior. His father sighed and hesitated for a second, clearly showing his frustration:  
“You very well know that there are hardly any women of your standards and I am afraid time is running out, Sander. You cannot possibly put it off any longer and I do not understand why you would.” – Sander didn’t either, and his brother Aaron adding to the turmoil has consumed Sander’s thoughts destructively:  
“I must say that I agree with father. There is nothing I would rather do than inherit the property myself but I am afraid it is against our uncle’s wishes. Ms. IJzermans seems very suitable, as I have only ever heard well-spoken things about her.”  
“Well she surely is but I refuse to marry her as of now. I will let you know once my thoughts on such happenings, that should not be discussed during a light mannered dinner, once they have changed. It is getting quite late. I will see you all tomorrow.” They staggered in surprise but letting Sander leave without saying another word.

Four days later – January 1865 – Sander

“Sander! How kind of you to spare us a visit! How’s your father? How’s your mother?”  
“Thank you for your invite Mrs. IJzermans, they are all very well and I should tell you their best wishes.” Mrs. IJzermans was her ever excited-self, stumbling upon words, hazardly inviting Sander in.  
“That is so very lovely of them!” she said, excitingly grabbing the young boy by his arm and letting him stand in their hallway as she immediately called for Britt, thinking his visit was meant for her, even though Sander himself was not of certainty if it was to be considered as such.

The library, in which both now faced each other, was the IJzermans’ biggest pride, as it was aligned with shelves covered in books upon books, and though they did not bear as much as the Driesen family, it was still to be thought of as palatially.  
“I am so very pleased to see you, Sander! How have you been?” Britt was perched before him, giving him loving glances.  
“Getting on, as one should. What about you? How’s your brother? How’s everyone doing?”  
Robbe, who had the pleasure of hiding behind one of the shelves, merely listening to what is said, became very well aware of the situation as his name was spoken.  
“They’re all alright! Though my little brother has his off days but nothing unusual. Your considerations are so very kind.”  
“They truly are kind, I must say.” Young Robbe was no longer able to hide, as he hated nothing more than words spoken about him without him being present. His entrance caused a visible effect on Sander, one Robbe was very ardent to have on him.  
“Are you talking about me, Britt?” She was astonished, for she did not expect her brother to show up, clearly not knowing he was hiding behind the shelves, keeping himself busy reading, though she did not see any wrong-doing in her spoken words:  
“Robbe! It was not my intention to talk about you behind your back though I doubt that my words are meant to be taken rudely.” Robbe listened in silence, but was quietly awaiting Sander’s reaction who stood before him, visibly in distress, his friend as the undoubtable cause, who tried his very best to seem not at all hurt by words spoken a few days ago.  
“Dear Robbe! I am very sorry to have created such a disagreeable moment and I will not ever speak about you – without your knowing it – ever again. I am so very sorry.”  
“Do not worry Britt, I am not upset at anything of your doing. It’s someone else’s apology I expect.” Sander was anxious at Robbe’s response, but; though he was aware that the words just spoken were directed at him, decided to stay quiet, in fear of making worse what was already quite unfortunate.  
“I must get going then. Britt, Mr. Driesen.” Though Sander tried ever so hard to be as unaffected by the current situation as possible, he did not – at all – expect to be called Mr. Driesen, as only his father is called as such. His friend very much knew this and knew just as well that he would astonish Sander, leaving him to be wretched on his own, the same as he was mere days ago. He took a bow shortly before he left. He might be upset, but his manners cannot ever be affected by such quarrels.

Dear diary,  
today I tried not to think about Sander. I tried not to think about him when I discussed the menu with the Cook... I tried not to think about him in the garden where I thrice plucked the petals off a daisy to ascertain his feelings for Britt. I don't think we should keep daisies in the garden, they really are a drab little flower. And I tried not to think about him when I went to bed. Something must be done. I have not gone so much as a week without at least hearing from Sander and I refuse to do it any longer, though I do not wish to be the first to reach out. I simply cannot bear to do so, for I have done nothing wrong. Have I?  
Robbe, January 1865

4 days later – February 1865

Within a short walk of Antwerp lived a family with whom the IJzermans were particularly intimate. To this family belonged young Ms. Yasmina, who had been nothing but a very dear friend to Robbe, and it was her he decided to grace – if it could be regarded positively like that at all – with the inner happenings of his mind, for he had no one else to turn to.  
Dear Yasmina,  
I very much hope you and your family are well and I must say I miss you incredibly. Mother has planned an excursion to see you and your loving parents and siblings very soon and though I am all the more excited to see you in person, I must admit that my mind has been occupied with a confrontation that is most disagreeable. I am not sure if you remember Mr. Sander Driesen, a very dear friend of mine, whose plans are to marry my sister Britt, for she is of an eligible age. Though I can say with certainty that Sander’s intentions are not to be considered those of a gentleman, for he purely wants to marry her so he is able to inherit a very prestigious property his uncle refuses to leave anyone but him. I feel so very ill at the thought of him getting married without affection, though I must say I think very well of my reaction shortly after he informed me of his plans, as it is not at all in me to let a marriage between my very dear sister and friend happen, when not an ounce of affection is involved. I simply refuse to do so. Oh dear Yasmina, I am so very wretched and I hope to hear from you soon as such thoughts have bewitched me. Particularly today, as I cannot stop my mind from floating. If I can wish one thing, it is to hear your thoughts on a quarrel of this extent.  
I hope to hear from you soon and I wish you and your family a most pleasant day.  
Greetings,  
Robbe

2 Days later – February 1865 – Sander  
Sander spent the first sunny day this year had graced him with, in the garden. He had both genius and taste, and though he was in possession of both, he could not find the strength to apologize to his very dear friend, even though he started to realize that his actions were ever so unpleasant and it had likewise confused and consumed his mind. Sander had always been listened to with pleasure, as he always acts with the utmost decorum and his mother, for which the situation did not go by unnoticed, took it upon her to listen to her son to convince him that all was safe, for as long as he would confess to her.  
“Mother, I promise you I am feeling at ease and am very much happy. You needn’t worry.”  
“That, my dear, is exactly the answer I expected and though someone else might leave it at that, I must say I do not consider myself to be a mother of such sort.”  
His mother was never short of pride which – understandably so – made Sander worry whether or not she was the right person to confess to, for she was a lady after all and if he were to speak to her about a fight he had with a friend, she would simply tell him that there are more important tasks that deserve his attention well beyond his friend. As he could not bear an answer like such, he decided to let his mind come up with a convincing scenario even his mother would believe:  
“I must admit that the marriage plans father and you made for me do worry me a lot, as I would like to wait to make sure she is properly introduced to society, as I have mentioned before.” Mrs. Driesen was not so entirely satisfied with this reply, but answered reasonably nonetheless:  
“We all very much understand your worries and you can – with certainty – postpone such plans for a little while though I must agree with your father: time is running out. Your uncle isn’t getting any younger and though young Ms. Britt seems doubtful at times, you surely must learn to understand that your options are quite limited.” To this speech, Sander gave no answer, but simply bowed his head, silently hoping his mother would leave the garden, for he wanted nothing more than to think freely. His wishes were soon to be fulfilled for his mother, who knew better than to pry any further, stood up, affectionately stroking her son’s cheek for a short while, to then leave instantly.  
Sander passed the night in his room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a letter to Robbe, to whom he was finally able to write to, for he spent the night thinking of nothing else:

Dear Robbe,  
Be not alarmed on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, which were so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention.  
I write to you because I refuse to think about anything else unless we speak again, unless you stand before me again, unless we can laugh at your mother’s jokes, unless we can be us again. I am sorry, for I have caused you pain, and whether or not I understand its origins, I simply know that me bringing injustice to you is enough to be in need of an apology. I have caused you pain, and I know how important it is for you to marry with affection and I therefore fully understand your concerns that are never to be taken lightly even though I did so for which I would like to rightfully apologize.  
Though I am an advocate for speaking in person, so as to be free of such hiding behind words, I would hope to speak with you soon to put an end to our misery.  
I hope all is well and that seeing each other will become a reality very soon.  
Greetings,  
Sander  
The same day – February 1865 – Robbe

“Robbe, you have received a letter” cried his mother and was able to get Robbe from his room in which he spent the past days, just like he did the week before. Though he was ever so happy to be astonished with an answer from his dear friend Yasmina, it would have been a lie to say he wasn’t – secretly – hoping for a letter from Sander, from whom he hasn’t heard ever since he intruded his meet-up with Britt.  
With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, Robbe opened the letter and it was as follows:

Dear Robbe,  
I would like to thank you for asking if all is well with my family and I am very happy to say that they are all in their best spirits. Mother has been asking about you as well and we all hope to be able to pay you a visit in the near future. Antwerp has always been good to us.  
As of your worries and doubts, I must admit that I, of course, tried to understand you, and can see that you want nothing more than to see Mr. Driesen and your lovely sister happily married with affection, though I want to be honest with you, as much as our friendship will allow me to be: I cannot see why you would be so upset, as your sister would be of an even higher status which is – undoubtedly – very fortunate for you as well. As much as I think your sister is very much in love with your friend, I also think she sees this as an opportunity and you must allow me to say that women are rational creatures after all, not just fine ladies most make them out to be. A woman is not to marry a man merely because she is asked, or because he is attached to her, and can write a tolerable letter, but because she is not only affectionate towards him, but sees herself settled, for survival would not be possible otherwise. Have you ever heard from a woman unmarried, who hasn’t been blessed with the luck of fortune? As much as your status of being hurt is understandable, I must admit that it is easy for you to be, as you can allow yourself to do so. A rational woman however – just like your sister is – needs to see herself married, even if it will not fulfill her with happiness and as much as I would love for it to be different, I cannot change what has been decided already. Therefore I do not see any harm in Sander marrying your sister, even if it were to gain land, for your sister would be in good hands, though I would love for her to be able to make her own decision, I am afraid such luck has not been bestowed upon women. As for your friend Sander, I do not see why you cannot be happy for him, for he would not only gain a well-mannered wife and a piece of land on which he would feel most comfortable, but would gain you as another addition to your ever growing family. I am sure your bond as friends would be much deeper than before.  
I hope me speaking with truth has not caused you any pain and I long for an answer, as your thoughts are of importance to me.  
I hope all is well and that the quarrel with your friend can come to an end very soon so that you are able to see all the advantages a union of such sort can bring.  
I wish and hope to see and speak with you soon.  
Greetings,  
Yasmina

Robbe read through the written words. He did so a few times for he could not process what has been written ever so kindly, yet left young Robbe with emotions that sent him into a turmoil. He read over the letter a few times and did so as he went to the garden to enjoy the flowers that just bloomed as spring dawned upon them, he did so as he went for a walk to clear his mind that was ultimately consumed by letters that - once put together - confused him so very much. He even read through his letter before going to bed, hoping an awaited dream might bring along the answer he already knew. The night was spent in a haze, waking up, thinking, going back to sleep just to do the same as before. It was not upon him to know why the letter raddled with his mind the way it did. He thought very highly of Yasmina and he never underestimated the power of a well written letter, and though her words were ever so clever and caused him to admit that his reaction days prior had been out of place, it was this that raddled with him the most: “As for your friend Sander, I do not see why you cannot be happy for him, for he would not only gain a well-mannered wife and a piece of land on which he would feel most comfortable on, but would gain you as another addition to your ever growing family. I am sure your bond as friends would be much deeper than before.”

Dear Diary,  
Upon receiving my dear friends’ letter I must admit that nothing has caused me quite as much uncertainty as her response to my worries, for they have been on my mind ever since I first read through them and I cannot say why. I surely understand the reasonings behind a union of such sort much better than before. I, however, cannot see why it saddens me to see myself as part of Mr Driesen’s family, for we have been friends for so long, that nothing should make me happier and yet, my body refuses to feel only the slightest amount of happiness. I cannot imagine why, for I know Britt would be just as happy if it were me who would marry –  
Robbe put his pen down shortly, for he was walloped with a feeling he was not yet familiar with, but one he kept hidden beneath layers for years upon years. He was feeling, thinking, trembling about everything; agitated, happy, miserable, infinitely obliged, absolutely angry. He was everything at once, and yet has never quite felt like himself the way he did now. He picked up his pen again, trying to form the words of which his emotions had driven him to:

I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle of it before I knew it had begun, and it struck me just now. It was there all along, the explanation of agony I had felt, when agony wasn’t supposed to be felt. The explanation of happiness I had felt, when a slight smile would have been obliging enough. The explanation of why I had felt envy, when I should have felt every positive feeling imaginable. And I must allow myself to admit that I have been - and always will be - in love with him.  
Robbe, February 1865


End file.
